Let The Games Begin
by PinkMagic
Summary: This story picks up after the last ep. Although our favorite Invisible Man no longer suffers the effects of QSM, he still has OTHER problems to deal with. CH. 5 UP!!!
1. Beyond You

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Invisible Man", but if I did I would hurt Sci-fi! (Don't take that literally...) 

**Let the Games Begin....**   
By PinkMagic (aka: Iman_girl)

The Official's office held an uncomfortable silence during the early hours of a sunny California morning.   
In contrast, the office had been joyous and chaotic the night before when Darien, Claire, and Hobbes had   
burst into the room to celebrate Darien's "freedom". 

_While clutching a large bottle of wine Darien exclaimed, "Hey-ya Boss, Eberts."_   
_ "What are you three doing here? Eberts and I were just about to close up for the night," the Official barked._   
_ "Ahh...sorry about that Charlie, but I just wanted to stop by really quick. I didn't want you to miss out_   
_on this...this...." Darien gestured toward his partner. "How would you put it Bobby?"_   
_ "Well, I think I'd call it a day a celebration. After all, from now on I'll never have to worry about eating_   
_**hot doughnuts** in front of YOU!" Hobbes joked._   
_ Giggling hysterically, Claire added, "You know Bobby, you and Darien better start thinking of some better_   
_excuses to come pester me in my lab. You won't have to come by nearly so often now that Darien doesn't_   
_need his shot."_   
_ "I don't know about that," Hobbes countered. "Just because Fawkes won't need counteragent doesn't_   
_mean that we should lose the privilege of raiding your refrigerator."_   
_ "Yeah, and by the way you're out of strawberry yogurt," Darien added._   
_ "About the counteragent, sir....." Bobby began. "I am assuming that the Agency will be gaining a large amount_   
_of its profits back now that we won't be paying for the expenses of the Keeper's blue koolaid. Since you might_   
_happen to have some extra money lying around..."_   
_ Cutting in, the Official growled, "You managed to keep your job Hobbes. I doubt that you deserve a raise. Just_   
_because from now on Darien will not be effected with Quicksilver Madness doesn't mean that you three can take_   
_a vacation. I expect ALL of you here at work bright and early tomorrow!"_   
_ Darien sighed, "It's such a shame too because it was cosmic bowling night at the Wild Thunder Lanes. Well,_   
_I guess I'll get going. Here, you can have this."_   
_ After setting the bottle of wine on the Fat Man's desk, Darien and his two friends departed for the night._

*** 

It was the next day and presently the Official's office was so quiet that the only sound was that of the Official's   
desk clock which was continuously ticking away with its seconds hand.   
"I'm going to kill those two when they...or if they...ever get in here!" the Official thought. The feeling of tension   
in the room was being caused by a middle aged woman who sat opposite of Charlie. She had been waiting there   
for nearly thirty minutes.   
Addressing the woman, the Official asked, "So.....you're a doctor?"   
"I was."   
"Oh."   
Silence....   
The Official glanced toward his lackey and gave Eberts one of those stall-for-time-or-die-trying looks.   
"Um...would you care for some coffee?" Eberts offered.   
"No, thank you."   
Silence....   
Sharply, the Official scooped up his desk phone and punched one of its buttons.   
"Are Fawkes and Hobbes in yet?" he demanded, and then waited for a reply. "Did you try calling their cell   
phones? Well, when they get here make sure that they come strait to my office - no detours."   
He set the phone receiver back in its cradle.   
Silence....   
"I hear that traffic is terrible this morning," Eberts commented. 

*** 

Several minutes later Darien Fawkes slowly strolled through the hallways of the Agency.   
_"This is the first day I've walked through these halls as a counteragent-free man,"_ he thought.   
Suddenly the sound of running footsteps came up behind him.   
"Fawkes, wait up!" Hobbes hollered.   
"Hey, you decided to come late too?" Darien asked.   
"Not my choice. My freakin' alarm clock didn't go off. I didn't even have time for my two mile run."   
"Your what?" Darien looked at him with surprise.   
Ignoring the question Hobbes continued, "I just talked to Agent Miles. He said that the Big Man is   
about ready to throw us into a lake. He says some lady has been waiting on us all morning."   
Darien's eyebrows raised in question, "Well, it's a good thing I can swim. Now what's up with this...   
..this...run?"   
"You know....run, jog, a brisk walk, an exercise by which a person has to move their legs --- "   
Darien cut him off, "You go on a two mile run every morning?"   
"Yeah," Bobby causally answered.   
Darien rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Yeah, right."   
"You think I'm lying? How else do you think I've managed to save your butt several times from   
all those freaks and criminals we are constantly chasing? Why, when I was in High School I was even   
on the track team and...hey! Get that smirk off your face! You think it's funny that Bobby Hobbes was   
a track star?" 

***

Eberts apologetically tried to reassure the woman, "I'm sure they'll be here any minute."   
"Thank you, but I've waited long enough. It's not your fault. I should've known he wouldn't show.   
I'm actually in a bit of a rush so....."   
At that instant, the door burst open as the Agency's two top agents entered the room.   
"I'm just saying, I always took you as the stair-master type of guy...." Darien's voice trailed off as he   
stared open-mouthed in amazement at the short, blonde haired woman before him.   
"Nice of you to show up, Darien." she said with a hint of sarcasm.   
It took Fawkes several attempts to talk by opening and closing his mouth like a fish before he could   
stammer, "Casey! What...what...."   
"I'm sorry you finally got here, because I can't stay any longer. I was just leaving. I'm running late   
as it is. If you had really needed me you would've shown up on time....I have to go."   
"Wait! What are you talking about? How did you get here?" Darien questioned.   
"Um...I got here by car and I'm talking about the fact that after about two years you invited me to   
come down here and you should've at least been here on time." Casey sighed and then headed toward   
the door.   
"Hold up. I invited you?" Darien asked.   
Raising her voice, Casey shouted, "Quit playing dumb, Darien! You think I'm stupid? I've talked   
to your boss and he has never heard of that...that....'urgent trial' thing you talked about in your letter.   
Obviously, you thought it would be cute to try and set us up again. We are through, Darien! Done!   
I have a life beyond you!"   
"I didn't invite you here, and I'm not trying to set us up...well...I'm not going to argue against that, but..."   
Suddenly the office door opened and Claire walked in. She was quickly scribbling on a clip board as   
she said, "Darien, where have you..." she trailed off as she looked up at the chaotic scene.   
"Well, this is most likely a bad time for everyone. I'll be back la ---"   
Claire was cut off as Casey glared up at Darien. "Well, it looks like I owe you an apology. You've   
obviously _moved on_."   
"Huh?" Darien mouthed.   
"I hope you have better luck with him," Casey commented to the Keeper.   
"Oh please! Come on, Casey. This is Claire! She's my Keeper....er...that didn't come out right, but   
I work with her! I swear! We aren't even dating and no offense Keep, but...wait...WAIT!"   
Although Darien continued to ramble on, it was obvious that Casey was no longer paying attention after   
the word 'Claire'. She briskly walked out of the room and slammed the door shut in Darien's face. After   
whacking his forehead against the office door several times, Darien slowly turned around to face his co-workers.   
Everyone silently looked at him with questionable faces.   
"Smooth move Romeo," Hobbes said.   
"I didn't ask her to come here." Darien stated. 

*** AT SOME NEARBY LOCATION.....   
A man with dark shades on sat at an outdoor restaurant table. Set in front of him was a smooth black, lap   
top computer. It had taken a great deal of work to smuggle a two inch camera into the Official's office last   
night; however, it had been worth it.   
Arnaud pressed enter so he could replay the video he had just captured of the chaotic scene of Darien   
meeting up with his ex-girlfriend.   
Chuckling to himself Arnaud muttered, "You may be free of Quicksilver Madness Fawkes, but that doesn't   
mean the game is over." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

I had a few more ideas for this story, but I **don't** plan to add more chapters_ unless_.... you all seem have a   
great interest in this.   



	2. Name Game

One of the "Top Ten Mysterious, Ironies of the World" might be how someone's life can   
experience BIG changes in a _small_ amount of time. This was true for Darien Fawkes.   
A morning which had started out perfect had suddenly turned to a disaster within a few   
minutes. Having an ex-girlfriend unexpectedly show up at your work and then chew you   
out for some unknown reason was not _exactly_ the highlight of Darien's day. An hour had   
gone by since the Invisible Man's meeting with Casey. Those sixty minutes were a blur to   
Darien. He had so many questions running through his mind that it was hard to keep   
concentrated. Once Casey had left he was unconcerned when the Official had barked at   
him for his tardiness in getting to work on time. Any other day Darien would've come   
up with a witty remark to match the Fat Man's comments of disapproval. ("Fawkes, it is   
absolutely unexceptable to come in three hours late!" "Come on, boss. You know   
you're only upset because you missed the new episode of 'All My Children'." ) After the   
one sided Official lecture, Darien had spent the remainder of that hour in the Keep.   
Claire was insisting on daily check-ups to make sure that Darien was not suffering side   
effects from the suicide gene. After several minutes of playing lab rat, Darien was allowed   
to leave.   
Upon exiting the Keeper's dungeon, Darien was immediately greeted by his partner.   
"Hey, buddy," Bobby commented to his tall friend. "How ya doing, kid?"   
"Hobbes, you're doing the nickname thing," Darien complained. It was a well known   
fact that Robert Hobbes would start to play the 'name game' with his partner whenever   
he was about to comment on an uncomfortable topic. Tiger, Pallie, Bud, Stud, Kid.....   
these were all common vocabulary words used during the "game".   
Hobbes shrugged. "I don't know what your talking about, Fawksie. So....what are   
your plans for tonight?"   
"I don't know. I was thinking about staying up all evening to watch the James Bond   
Marathon on television," Darien sarcastically replied.   
"Please, my friend. That's nothing near the truth. You don't think I don't know what your   
gonna do as soon as you step into your apartment?"   
"Hmm...I'll bite. What _will _I do as soon as I get inside my apartment, Hobbes?"   
"First you'll flop down on your coach as you always do. Then you'll flip on the T.V.   
and quickly channel surf through your pathetic non-cable channels. When you've realized   
there's nothing good on, you'll finally pick up the phone and dial your ex-girl's number."   
It was somewhat an eerie feeling that Hobbes could predict exactly what Darien   
would've done in this type of situation. None the less, Fawkes denied his partner and simply   
shrugged his shoulders and continued to silently walk down the hallway. After a moments   
pause, Bobby jogged after his friend and gently laid a hand on Darien's shoulder to stop him.   
"Darien, having Casey suddenly show up has got to have left you with several unanswered   
questions -"   
"You bet," Darien muttered.   
" - but maybe you shouldn't let your curiosity take over. I mean...maybe you shouldn't   
be so...so...anxious to call her up and get the answers. Maybe the lady needs some time to...   
to....cool off because I mean, she seemed awfully tense and.....know what I'm trying to say   
here? Besides, there's that saying about curiosity and the cat being killed."   
"A cat being killed?" Darien asked with raised eyebrows.   
"Yeah, the cat being murdered by curiosity."   
"Hobbes, you're making this sound like a Friskies' Cat Chow commercial. Man, will you just   
get to the point already?"   
Robert sighed. After shuffling his feet a bit, he held up his left hand as if it was of   
some significance to Darien.   
Obviously confused, Fawkes replied, "What? Five words? You want to play charades   
now?"   
"No, no," Hobbes shook his head. "The ring. She had...a..a wedding ring on Fawkes."   
A wave of disappointment immediately cascaded over Darien's face. Several seconds of   
silence passed by as Fawkes stared at his partner with a glazed over look in his eyes.   
"I'm sorry, buddy." Hobbes patted him on the shoulder.   
With nothing to say, Darien Fawkes trudged down the hallway and exited the Agency.   
Uncertain of what to do, his partner was left standing alone in the middle of the hall. In a way   
he felt partly responsible for breaking the news to his pal.   
_"Why is the truth always so cruel?" _he silently wondered.   
***   
Inside the Agency's main office, The Official leaned back in his large, desk chair and   
skimmed through the pages of his "Gardening At Home" magazine. He had just finished reading   
an article on care for indoor flowers when he was suddenly startled by a rapid tapping at the   
room's door.   
Once he had safely shoved the literature under a pile of reports, he bellowed, "Come in!"   
The door was cracked open and Eberts's small head peeked into the room.   
"Excuse me, sir? I was wondering if now would be a good time?"   
The Official sighed, "Come on in, Eberts."   
Obeying, Eberts opened the door to reveal a large, green vacuum. He rolled it into   
the office, shut the door, and then got down on his hands and knees to search for an outlet.   
"I assure you this will only take a few minutes, sir."   
The Agency's Official dismissed the comment by silently waving his hand.   
"You've got plenty of time. There is, amazingly, nothing left on my agenda. It seems that   
crime is at an all-time low today. I even tried to get an assignment from our sponsors to see   
if we could assist them with anything, but they didn't have any jobs either. If this keeps up, we'll   
be out of a job Eberts," he chuckled.   
"Perhaps I could arrange for the Keeper to meet with you since you wanted to speak with   
her on the matter of Mr. Fawkes?" Eberts suggested.   
"No, not quite yet. After Darien's troubles this morning I think she'll be too sympathetic towards   
him. I highly doubt she would favor my proposition." He sighed, "That's the only disadvantage to Claire.   
She always becomes so attached to her patients. I thought Darien, having such a rebellious attitude   
when we first met, would never gain her friendship."   
"And who would have ever imagined that Agent Hobbes would actually last more than two   
months with the same partner." Eberts rolled his eyes.   
"So true," the Official agreed. "Darien has certainly changed this Agency."   
Eberts nodded in agreement, then flicked the vacuum's 'on' switch. The instrument's loud roar   
filled the office and ended the conversation.   
*** 

Thanks for the wonderful feedback on Chapter 1!!! I'll try to keep writing. ~ Img (Iman_girl)   
  



	3. Phone Calls & Paper Cuts

Author's Note: This is a short chapter, but the next one will be out soon. Please keep reading! :-) 

*** Late that evening Bobby Hobbes stood in his apartment's kitchen over a steaming stir-fry.   
He was relieved to finally be home after the busy day at work, yet he was troubled. While   
picking at his meal he couldn't help but worry about his partner. Darien was a sensitive guy   
when it came to his former life and Hobbes knew that Casey showing up again could only   
be causing his partner grief. When Darien had signed on with the Agency, Casey had been left   
behind. Charlie had argued to Darien, "Do you really want your girlfriend getting more   
involved with this mess? Think of her sake." The Official wanted a professional Keeper on   
duty and not some local doctor. Besides, Darien really didn't have a say in the matter.   
While memories lingered on, the phone rang. After a few rings Hobbes came to attention   
and got up to answer the persistent caller.   
"Hello," Hobbes said in a dull tone.   
"Hey," Darien's voice greeted.   
"Fawkes," Hobbes stated in surprise. "How ya doing?"   
"She called me, Hobbes."   
"She called?"   
"Yeah, Casey called," Darien repeated with excitement.   
"Well, what did she say? What did you say?"   
"I didn't say anything. She left a message on my machine. We're meeting for dinner   
tomorrow."   
"Hey, that's great...right?" Bobby asked.   
"Well, yeah. I guess. I'm just so...I don't know," Darien struggled for words.   
"Nervous?" Robert suggested.   
"I mean, what am I gonna say? It's been two years. We have a lot to catch up on."   
There was a silent pause and then Hobbes asked, "So, did she say anything about...   
you know, this morning?"   
Immediately Darien replied, "Oh, that. Yeah, she sounded very apologetic in the message;   
something about a misunderstanding and she said she would explain things tomorrow night."   
"Huh."   
"Oh, man. It's late," Darien suddenly noted. "I guess I better get going. I'm gonna get   
up early tomorrow and go shopping for something to wear to dinner. We're going to this   
big, fancy restaurant and...well, you've seen my current wardrobe," he chuckled.   
Hobbes tried to laugh too, but was caught with a horrible mental image of Darien going   
to dinner with jeans and that bright orange shirt of his. Then he remarked, "Don't forget to   
stop by the Agency before you go."   
Darien was puzzled. "Why's that?"   
"Weren't you listening during the Fat Man's briefing this morning?!"   
"Not really," Fawkes admitted.   
Hobbes groaned and then explained, "Since the Agency amazingly has no current assignments   
the Official wants us to help organize the archives with Eberts. It's gonna be loads of fun," he   
said sarcastically.   
"Ah, man. Couldn't you get Alex to help you out just this once?" Darien pleaded.   
Hobbes sighed, "Wow. You **really** weren't paying attention. Alex transferred. She's no   
longer working with the Agency and the Fish was _real_ upset. 'Not only did we lose one   
of our top agents, but our budget is going to be drastically decreased due to the departing of   
Ms. Monroe'," Hobbes quoted.   
"Ok. Ok," Darien submitted. "I'll be there at nine. See ya there, partner."   
"Great. I'll see you then." 

*** 

Around the Agency people had a nickname for the archives. It was rather known as   
"The Paper Jungle". If that were so then Eberts would defiantly be Tarzan for he was the King   
of Data Assortment. Fawkes and Hobbes had spent their entire morning taking orders on what   
to file and where from the accountant. After three hours of labor the two partners walked out   
with nothing to show but a few paper cuts.   
Darien sighed, "Is it just me or did we spend our entire morning doing absolutely nothing?"   
Hobbes nodded in agreement, "Every time I'd get something filed Eberts would just come over   
and undo it! I'm telling you, he said _maroon_ files go into Upper Cabinet C."   
"No, man. He said _purple_. I even heard that."   
"Well, look who's talking Mr. 'I'll-save-us-time-by-quicksilvering-a-huge-stack-of-papers'," Hobbes   
snorted.   
"Hey, it was worth a try, ok?" Darien shot back.   
Hobbes grinned at the thought of how Eberts had completely panicked. ("Secure the area!   
Secure the area! The Project AX20 files have been stolen!!!") It had been worth it.   
"Since we've got the entire afternoon free would you care to join me for lunch?" Bobby offered.   
"Can't. I got to get ready for tonight."   
"Oh," Hobbes nodded his head reluctantly. "That's right. So..uh..where will you and Casey be   
dining?"   
Darien searched his memory. "It's that new place downtown. They serve Italian food."   
"Ah. I read about that one in the paper," Hobbes commented.   
Darien stopped suddenly, looked at his partner suspiciously, and then muttered, "Oh, no."   
"What?" The shorter man asked innocently.   
"You are planning on following me," Fawkes accused.   
Trying to act surprised, Hobbes replied, "What? Why would I do that?"   
"I don't know, but you..," Darien pointed, "..you've got that look and I _know_ you are planning   
on following me."   
"I wouldn't say I was 'planning', Fawkes. It was more like 'considering'."   
"Well, don't."   
"Do I have a reason to?" Hobbes questioned.   
"I don't need a babysitter," Darien said firmly.   
"Why would you?" Bobby shrugged in agreement.   
Darien studied him one last time and then sighed, "Ok."   
"Well, I got a few things to finish up here before I go so I'll see you tomorrow." Hobbes turned   
to leave.   
"Ok. Tomorrow, NOT tonight!" Darien shouted after him. 

*** 

The sun was just beginning to set that evening and the sky was a beautiful rosy pink color.   
Darien, dressed in a black suit and tie, had made sure to leave his place a half hour early. For   
some reason he couldn't shake the feeling that Hobbes would try to follow him. Bobby Hobbes   
was a great guy, but he was always looking over his shoulder. Darien had learned to deal with   
his partner's paranoia over time, but he did not want Hobbes following him tonight. This was   
something personal Darien had to deal with on his own. Besides, there was no reason for Hobbes   
to be worried. He was just going out to dinner! This was no assignment!   
The ride over went smoothly. As far as Darien could tell, he had not been followed. It would   
have been pretty easy to spot the Agency's large, gold van. Fawkes parked his car in a lot   
adjacent to the restaurant. Glancing at his watch, he realized that if he walked briskly he would   
be there exactly on time. Quickly he grabbed his keys and wallet and headed toward the   
building. Unfortunately, he never made it to his destination. After only taking a few steps a   
heavy pain overwhelmed him and everything became black. 

***


	4. The Cell

Rating: I'll just go ahead and rate the rest of this story PG-13, although there's nothing that wouldn't be in the show.  
  
***  
  
Getting shot with a tranquilizer dart gun was nothing new to Darien Fawkes. Still, despite his past experiences, regaining conscienceness was always a tremendous task and slow process for him. At first everything was a blur. His mind was in a dazed state and it seemed as if a swarm of wasps had taken up residence in his brain. After quite some time, memories began to surface and soon he began to wonder how much time had elapsed and if he could still make his dinner date with Casey. That question was answered as Darien's eyes blinked open.  
  
An intense, bright white surrounded him. Once his vision was properly adjusted, he took a quick look around his new surroundings. He was in a padded cell. It seemed to be the only appropriate thing to match the white straight jacket he was in. His new prison was set up exactly like the Agency's white room of confinement, however, this one was much smaller.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Fawkes." The voice had been calm and all too well know by Darien.  
  
He whipped his head around to face the figure standing directly behind him.  
  
"Hey, Stark." Darien said casually. "What's going on here? You know, I'm missing out on a real important date right about now."  
  
Clasping his hands together, Stark gave a half smile and stated, "I'm afraid you'll have to make a rain check."  
  
"Okay, why's that?" Fawkes inquired. "Oh! Let me guess. Chrysalis is holding a Get To Know Your Enemy Picnic and you wanted to invite me, right?"  
  
"I no longer work for them." The former director shot back. There was a long silence which was finally ended when Stark began to slowly circle his captive. He continued, "Let me tell you something, Darien. For almost four years I was holding one of Chrysalis's most highly respected positions. I had authority, power, and control over more people than you've met in a lifetime. And just as I was making my way to the top, I was slapped in the face. One second I was working as a leader and the next Chrysalis was nearly handing me a mop and broom."  
  
"They kicked you out faster than the service at McDonalds," Fawkes added.  
  
Stark stopped in mid-step and stared off into the distance. His voice shook with rage. "You bet they did." He looked toward Darien. "Well, I wasn't going to take that. I told them I'd rather quit than be demoted to such a degrading level of authority. And that's just what I did."  
  
"Wait. Hold up. How can you just quit working for a classified world dominating organization? Isn't there some kind of code against that?" Fawkes questioned.  
  
Stark nodded. "People don't just quit. They aren't allowed to. You either work with the organization or they kill you in order to keep their information from leaking."  
  
"But you said -"  
  
"There were several other Chrysalis employees who didn't want to see me out of office so I rallied together all of my followers and now have abandoned Chrysalis in order to form a better and more efficient group of power."  
  
"So, you're on the run from Chrysalis with a handful of guys as your back up?" Darien shook his head. "That's great - really. I mean, you should seriously consider writing a novel or at least make a screenplay here because this is good stuff. Still, I'm kinda curious..... why exactly do I need to be involved with this?"  
  
Stark explained, "I was fired because of you, Darien. You and your Agency managed to gain more information from me than any other group or person alive. I'll admit that now. It's impossible to match up to a government establishment with a working invisible man on their team. Before I left Chrysalis I was experimenting on creating our own invisible agent, but now it just seems more sensible to steal the current working production."  
  
Raising his eyes in surprise Darien exclaimed, "Whoa. You expect me to start working for you - just like that?!"  
  
"Of course not. We'll be offering you a generous trade: your life for our demands."  
  
Darien's eyes narrowed, "I've got news for you, Stark. I no longer need counteragent."  
  
"So I've heard."  
  
"Then how exactly do you plan to control me?"  
  
"We'll be implanting a little device into you which will deliver an excruciating amount of pain throughout your body if you should disobey us. It's an idea we picked up from that acupuncture doctor of yours. Of course, you always have the option of refusing this offer.  
  
In that case, we'll just salvage the gland and put it into a more cooperative host."  
  
Darien glared at Stark with pure fury in his eyes. "You s- "  
  
"We will be prepping you for surgery in few minutes." Stark grinned and then stepped toward the padded room's door. Prepared to exit he looked into the shaded window, nodded, and then waited. The door did not move. Several seconds passed by and then Stark spoke aloud to the dark square in the room's wall. "Jason, have the guard unlock the door," he commanded with silence being his only answer. Nervously Stark glanced from Darien, to the door, and back to the window. The door still did not open. Fawkes sat hunched over in the corner with a smirk on his face. Using the wall for support he slowly pushed himself up to a standing position. Giving Stark a steady stare Darien said softly, "It looks like Jason decided to take an early lunch break."  
  
*** Darien sighed inwardly. Relief washed over him when Stark's guard failed to follow instructions. He assumed that could mean only one thing: the backup had arrived. Surely Hobbes must have followed him. It figured. Hobbes always seemed to be looking out for Darien whether he wanted the agent's help or not. Darien had to admit, he had been starting to worry. Sure, he had been in more dangerous situations, but this was the first time he had seen Stark so outraged. The man had absolutely no sound of remorse when he had threatened to salvage the gland. "Stark's getting good at this evil-villain thing," Darien thought.  
  
Turning his attention to the glass window he shouted, "Hey, Hobbsie! How about you come in here and help me escort Stark to the unemployment office?"  
  
The room's door flew open and three men dressed in black from head to toe barged in. All three were equipped with automatic guns. Before Darien could figure out what was going on, one of the men ran over and tackled Darien to the ground while another gagged him and then proceeded to blind fold him. As this happened a loud thud was heard and then a low grunt as someone collapsed to the floor.  
  
"Try and quicksilver and you'll be dead within a second," a voice hissed in his ear.  
  
*** 


	5. Q&A

Author's Notes: YES, I am still alive. I guess that Iman Pep Rally finally got me writing again. This section contains huge honkin' spoilers for…..The New Stuff and Enemy Of My Enemy. Enjoy!

***

Darien's six foot frame was not designed to be crammed into a confined car truck. The long ride was almost unbearable and movement was limited since Darien's hands were now bound with duct tap. To make the situation just slightly worse, a sharp pain would hit Darien's neck every time the vehicle severed to the left. The pain was not an oncoming quicksilver madness episode, but a portable car jack being wedged between him and the trunk wall. For some reason, Darien was under the impression that these new methods of transportation were not of the Agency. There was no way the el-cheapo Fat Man would provide all his vehicles with portable car jacks.

After what seemed like an eternity, the engine stopped and the muffled sound of car doors slamming shut could be heard. Within a few seconds the truck lid was thrown open and a pair of hands roughly pulled out a very sore and furious Darien Fawkes. Just before his blind fold was removed, a thickly accented voice cut through the atmosphere.

"Were you followed?"

"No, Arnaud. We took all the necessary precautions you told us about."

First Stark, and now Arnaud. It was like being thrown out of a fire and straight into the depths of Hades. _"This day just can't get any better,"_ Darien told himself.

A team of six men dressed in black were securing the area. They were in some sort of storage facility. Metal boxes lined three of the room's four walls. The last one was the garage door which was now being closed by some of Arnaud's men. It was a sickening sight to see Arnaud in the center of chaos, barking out orders - occasionally in French. It would not be long, however, before Darien became the focus of everyone's attention.

"We haven't a lot of time so let's make this quick and as simple as possible. I'm going to ask you some questions and…." Arnaud paused for a moment, noticing that Darien was still gagged. "..and will _someone_ please ungag him so I may continue!"

The order was carried out swiftly and Darien was finally free to mutter a few choice words under his breath. Arnaud ignored these comments and carelessly glanced at his wrist watch. 

"I got to tell ya Arnie, Stark's place was a whole lot cleaner than this dump," Darien sighed. "Speaking of our old pal, did you and him set up this whole kidnapping thing? I'm having a heck of a time trying to figure out who's prisoner I am."

"Yes, well, this is only a temporary holding room and I will have nothing further to do with that piece of scum you referred to," Arnaud cringed and hesitantly rubbed over his needle-prodded arm. "That's all besides the point. Have you or the Agency had any contact with Chrysalis these past few days?"

"No."

"Have you received any information on Chrysalis's new director?"

"No, who's he?"

"She," Arnaud corrected, "is one major headache."

"She's causing you anxiety and misery? Hmm…I might just like this chick," Darien smiled.

Arnaud shook his head, "Trust me, you'd rather live through Stage Five Madness. Speaking of which, I've heard the news of your sudden recovery. I must say, I was really surprised Claire figured it out. It certainly took her long enough," he snorted. "That's actually why I need you. With the gland now functioning properly, I'm afraid I'll be needing it back. In fact," Arnaud once again checked his watch, "in about ten minutes I'll be doing just that. During the few moments we have left, however, I have some more information I need from you."

"Why should I tell you anything," Darien growled.

In a light airy tone Arnaud replied, "I suppose if you ramble on long enough it could postpone your life for just a little bit longer."

"You are one sick -"

"No, no!" Arnaud put up his hand. "That's not how this game works, Darien. You see, you won't answer until I ask you the question. Extra commentary is unnecessary."

Darien glared intensely at the murderer before him. It took every effort not to dive head first at the man. Unfortunately, the six men guarding the enclosure were all equipped with weapons. Any wrong move could set off a round of bullets. Darien wasn't ready to risk that - not yet.

"Why was Stark holding you hostage?" Arnaud questioned.

"He planned to force me to work for him and his group of brainwashed followers."

"Did he mention why he was fired from Chrysalis?"

Darien frowned, trying to remember. "Not exactly…expect he wasn't fired, he left."

"Please, I already know that," Arnaud rolled his eyes. "Why did Chrysalis give up his job as director to Scarlet?" he demanded.

Suddenly, it occurred to Darien how completely tragic his situation really was. He no longer was paying attention to Arnaud's persistent chattering. All he could think about were Hobbes and Claire. They were more than just co-workers, they were true friends. Darien was finally free of the curse which had caused him to get involved with the Agency, but he had stayed because he felt that the Agency contained the only two true friends Darien had ever known. 

This realization instilled a whole new attitude within Fawkes. He wasn't about to answer Arnaud's ridiculous questions any more. However pointless Darien believed they were, they obviously held some importance to Arnaud and if the information they provided his enemy could possibly endanger the Agency or his friends, then Arnaud wasn't about to pry all the facts out of Darien. 

"I said," Arnaud repeated, "do you know why Stark is no longer the director of Chrysalis? And how _did_ he capture you? My men tired to track you down at the restaurant. Don't tell me you were actually _on_ time for once. Are you going to answer these questions or shall I kill you now?"

"I've got a question for you, Arnaud," Darien said in a hushed tone. "What good is the gland when you know that once you've got it Chrysalis, Stark, or some other insane criminal organization will hunt you down?" 

Arnaud shook his head, "You're not following the rules of the game, Darien."

"Just tell me - why? Why is it even worth it?" Darien pressed.

The question seemed to have Arnaud thinking. It was quite some time before the man replied. "Whoever has the gland has the power. They win."

"Why not just forget the gland? Move on? This fighting is only going to continue, right?"

"It's not that simple!" Arnaud argued. "Once you're caught up in this mess it's like…like.."

Darien cut him off demanding to know, "Even if you get the gland, how will you know how to implant it into another host? Your lap top was destroyed back at the Agency."

"_Please_, you think I was born yesterday? I've kept a backup of the information."

"Then, why should you -" Darien was unable to finish.

Arnaud exploded, "I'm asking the questions - NOT YOU!!!!"

"I'm not answering any more of your stupid questions," Darien said firmly.

Arnaud nodded, "You're tired of playing Twenty Questions? How about a different game?" Arnaud aggressively snatched a pistol from a nearby guard and pointed it directly at Darien. "How about I explain the ending of a little game called Clue: Arnaud De Fohn, in the abandoned warehouse, with the revolver."

***


End file.
